


slide on next to me i'm just a human being

by bucky_bunny_teeth (buckybunnyteeth)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (i mention the twins), Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Trans!Leo Fitz, Trips not dead, minor age of ultron spoilers, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybunnyteeth/pseuds/bucky_bunny_teeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But Hunter has never lied to him. Hunter is honest with him, and not always so sickeningly patient. He’s a good man and honest about what he thinks and is a damn better shot that Fitz will ever be-</p><p>“Oi, you want a sandwich? These pickles, Coulson flew them in from god knows where, and they are literally an orgasm for your mouth.”</p><p>-and he offers to make Fitz sandwiches, just because he wants too.</p><p>Hunter it is then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slide on next to me i'm just a human being

"I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time." -Charles Bukowski

…

Fitz doesn’t have exes, that’s widely known now. Fitz is without exes, has never been in any kind of lasting romantic entanglement.

But that doesn’t mean he’s a virgin. He is in fact the opposite. 

Sex and physical intimacy is something he was familiar with and good at, something he had been actively pursuing since he was sixteen. Emotional connections, though equally pursued, were harder for him. They never seemed to stick, or the person he was offering them too didn’t pick up on what he was offering. Or didn’t want it.

By the time Fitz met Jemma Simmons he had figured out his sexuality that he was Pansexual, after he had collected enough data and experience to be comfortable in it.

He wasn’t a blushing virgin or a cowardly techie like his team seems to think he is still, even after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and Ward’s betrayal and everything they had to do to survive, they still see him as small and innocent and not at all like who he feels he is. 

But that’s not what matters right now. Those are just some of the everyday frustrations he feels, along with how much he hates his shaking hands and how he wishes both he and Jemma could get over their own crap. They hum constantly under his skin along with constantly evolving and devolving schematics and blue prints.

What matters now is much scarier for Fitz.

And it would be less scary if Coulson would stop avoiding him and let him into his god damned office for one-

The door behind his back opens and Fitz stumbles into his boss’s office, and inevitably his boss. Coulson steadies Fitz, and his face looks more tiredly fond than frustrated so that’s a plus.

“I-uh, sir-“

“We were just finishing up here, Fits.” Coulson says calmly as ever, “You and I can get down to business in a moment.”

Coulson moves away from him, towards his desk, and Fitz notices the other two people in the room.

Mack and Bobbi. Great.

The two people in the whole base that he has been actively avoiding. 

The whole debacle of the other S.H.I.E.L.D and their hostile takeover has been over for months. Gonzales revealed his true colours, along with a long list of powered people he had been torturing. The two groups were now one and their stances on powered peoples had changed, despite protests from some. Harmony was settling in, the two groups intermingling so that the divide between them would close overtime.

But Fitz couldn’t forget how they had lied and tricked him, purposefully become friends with him and Jemma so that it would be easier to ‘bring them over’. He couldn’t forgive them for how they had hurt his team- his family. How they had thought it was okay to do at all after what H.Y.D.R.A had done to them all. It was fucked up and Fitz was not going to forget about it.

And they are both looking at him with big concerned eyes as if they had never betrayed his already battered and bruised trust.

Fantastic.

“Is everything alright?” Mack asks, eyes skittering back and forth between the director and Fitz. He still doesn’t trust Coulson, and it makes that small petty part of Fitz furious.

Bobbi frowns, “Is there something we should know about?”

“Not everything, Agent Morse, is about a national crisis,” Coulson says evenly, but his eyes do not waver from Bobbi’s, “And this is not a matter that concerns either of you.”

Mack bristles because he doesn’t seem to do anything else around Coulson.

The two spies glance at each other and Fitz sighs in frustration, he’s just about ready to snap (or get a tension headache, it’s much the same feeling).

“I am here on personal matters,” he snaps out and almost hates himself for it, “None of which concern you two.”

“Fitz-“

He moves away from Mack’s outstretched hand, turning his back on the two agents to stand in front of Coulson’s desk. He can’t see the looks on their faces and maybe if he continues not to he can convince himself that he doesn’t give a crap. 

Another tense moment passes, hangs heavily in the air, before Bobbi and Mack reluctantly shuffle out of the room. The door shuts behind them and Coulson activates the privacy settings. Fitz is grateful and it shows in his shoulders. No chance they will he heard. It makes breathing easier.

“How can I help you today, Fitz?” Coulson says, soft and relaxed like he used to be all the time before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“I need to go off base.”

Coulson frowned. 

“Is everything alright?”

“I just ah-” Fitz scratched the back of his neck and sunk into a chair across from Coulson, “I’m out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah.”

“So you need to go out, because you are ‘out’?”

Fitz nodded.

“I thought you had enough doses for four months?”

“I did ... four months ago.”

“Ah-” Coulson bought a hand up to rub the bridge of your nose, “Do you need a dose today?”

“Yeah.”

Something felt off. Coulson usually just smiled and told him to load up the car. Something was different this time.

“Sir, I’m sorry-“

“No,” Coulson dropped his hand and sat forwards suddenly serious, “You never have to apologize for this- and under different circumstances you wouldn’t even have to ask to leave the base. But with everything that has happened with the Avengers in Europe, and the new Powered Person under our care-“

He was cut up and had more holes in him than Fitz had ever seen. He had come in barely alive, but now Fitz and Jemma had built him back up enough that he was out of the woods. The man’s twin sister would be pleased.

“-we were already stretched thin as it was and now,” Coulson sighed, “I’m not saying you can go. But I am saying that neither I nor May are available to go with you.”

Fitz’s stomach flipped uneasily, a small jab of fear deep in his gut.

“Oh.”

Coulson hummed.

“I know that May, Jemma and I are the only ones who know- and that I would like a fully trained agent on your six while you are outside the base, so-“

“Can- can I ask someone else to go?” 

Coulson looked a little shocked.

“You … as long as you trust them. Yes, you can take someone else.” 

Fitz nodded, mind already whirring into action.

“Okay- okay, so. So, I’m-“

“You are cleared to leave the base for the day, Agent Fitz,” Coulson said with a fond smile, “Along with an agent of your choosing.”

“And-“

“And you can have tomorrow off as well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Fitz smiles, and stands to leave.

“Fitz?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please, don’t ever think you have to apologize for any of this.”

“Okay, sir. I’ll try.”

…

It would be very easy to just jump into the armoured SUV and go where he needed to go by himself. As much as he hated driving he could do it. 

But rationally he wouldn’t be able to drive himself back.

And even if he took a gun for protection it wouldn’t be the same as having a fully trained and experienced field agent on his back.

So as much as he wanted to keep his secrets to himself, he needed to let someone in. Not like that’s ever come back to bite him before, right?

Twisting his hands in the front of his cardigan Fitz walked into the common area of the base and thought about his options.

Bobbi and Mack were out. They were squirrelled away in the kitchenette area pretending not to look at him, and as much as they are good at what they do Fitz can’t trust them anymore.

Jemma and Trip (another long and heartbreaking story) are currently skyping with Skye while they coordinate plans, all of them ready to roll out and follow May to wherever she is going. It’s still a couple hours before they go, but Fitz doesn’t want to mess up the rhythm of their mission or whatever.

There are several other lower level agents that he could ask, but he doesn’t know them very well. Doesn’t trust them not to spill his secrets.

And that leaves-

“Hey, Fitz! Come back me up over here!”

Hunter.

Fitz startles from his thoughts and moves over to where the other man is standing in the kitchen, arguing with Bobbi and Mack while he makes lunch.

Hunter turns to him as he enters the kitchen, half eaten sandwich in one hand that he is using to point at the other two.

“You tell these two philistines-” he says with playfully harshness, “That they are in fact wrong- The Hulk could totally beat up Godzilla!”

Fitz frowns at Hunter for a long moment.

“Which Godzilla? The stupid American one or real Godzilla?”

Hunter rolls his eyes.

“Real Godzilla, Mate. We don’t talk about the other one.”

“ … Hulk could take both of them.”

Hunter crows with victory, swooping his sandwich through the air so a pickle comes flying out and splats against Bobbi’s hand.

“Ew, Lance-“

“There you have it folks! Straight from the mouth of renowned scientist Leo Fitz. You two lose.”

Mack chuckles and tries to catches Fitz’s eye but he dodges it. He wonders if Hunter has forgiven Bobbi or if he’s just a lot better at hiding his real feelings than Fitz is. 

But Hunter has never lied to him. Hunter is honest with him, and not always so sickeningly patient. He’s a good man and honest about what he thinks and is a damn better shot that Fitz will ever be-

“Oi, you want a sandwich? These pickles, Coulson flew them in from god knows where, and they are literally an orgasm for your mouth.”

-and he offers to make Fitz sandwiches, just because he wants too.

Hunter it is then.

“You could make some for the uh …the road.”

Hunter frowns at him, pickle hanging out of his mouth. Fitz is acutely aware that the pair on the other side of the Kitchen Island, as well as the people on the couches behind him, are listening in. For some reason they all feel the need to protect him recently (since he got shot when they took down Gonzales), and as much as Fitz appreciates the concern, it’s bloody maddening when you need to have a conversation with someone.

“I, uh,” Fitz continues, “I need to go off base, for uh- reasons, and Coulson told me to take someone along.”

Hunter flicks his eyes to Mack and then the people behind him, reading the situation. Nothing shows on his face for a moment, but he eventually sticks his lip out and nods.

“Sure thing,” he answers, quickly slapping his already made sandwiches into a container, “Just let me get a couple things and we can go, ‘kay?”

“’Kay.” Fitz mirrors, small smile slipping on to his face.

Hunter slaps him lightly on the shoulder before leaving the room in the direction of the bunks.

Thumping his hand on the counter a couple times, he turns to follow Hunter out of the room and not have to talk to anyone, when Jemma catches his eye. They share a look, her instantly understanding what he is doing and him reading her ‘Okay, be careful’ from her eyes. They nod to each other (still in sync in some ways) and Jemma launches into some chatter about Peggy Carter so no one stops him on his way out of the room.

…

Hunter likes to listen to music when he drives, and he keeps up the conversation so Fitz doesn’t have too. 

But at the same time he scans the mirrors like clockwork, checks out all the other cars on the road, and makes sure that both of them have a gun within arm’s reach.

“It’s not that serious,” Fitz had said before they left as he watched Hunter place weapon strategically around the car, “It’s just- It’s only a medical thing. Not an op or anything.”

“Still,” Hunter shrugs, “Better safe than sorry.”

“Duct taping a gun under my seat is safe?”

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to bring the robots.”

…

They make it too the doctor’s office without incident. Hunter settles down in the waiting room, sitting amongst a group of grandmothers, instantly slipping into conversation while he thumbs through a trashy magazine. Fitz wishes he could take pictures of it, but that’s probably a creepy thing to do in a doctor’s office anyway. 

Fitz is in and out in record time. The doctor used to be Fury’s personal doctor, and even though they aren’t in S.H.I.E.L.D anymore they still help whenever they can. 

Fitz slips the medically sealed box into his satchel as he walks back into the waiting room while trying and failing to not rub the newly sore spot high on his leg.

Hunter stands and grins at him, “As far as I am concerned this is the ideal mission, Mate. I got to catch up on my Brangelina, and we get to stop for donuts on the way home.”

“I never said anything about donuts?”

“Least I could do,” Hunter says, slinging an arm around Fitz’s shoulders as the walk out of the office, “You did get jabbed after all.”

Fitz tenses, “How did you-“

“I have the same face when I get injections,” Hunter says, leaning close like it’s a secret, “They really freak me out, you know.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty … used to them now.”

Hunter grins, “Got any tips?”

“I dunno … grow a pair?”

A startled bark of laughter splits Hunter’s face into a grin.

“You prick,” he says like an endearment as he punches Fitz’s arm lightly, “And I was going to shout you donuts.”

Fitz grins and climbs into the SUV. 

“You asked.”

…

They do stop for donuts, and Hunter buys Fitz’s favourite pink ones without asking. He has an uncanny memory for everyone’s food orders, it’s actually pretty cool.

They eat them in the car, and for a moment a world full of H.Y.D.R.A and possible invading aliens fades away as they are riding down the long stretch of road, windows rolled down while Taylor Swift blasts from the radio. It’s exhilarating in a way, feels like it’s a page from the normal life that never attracted Fitz but he still envies sometimes. Hunter is grinning and ranting about something to do with a mission in Antarctica, and he looks beautiful in the afternoon light.

So of course that’s when Fitz’s stomach decides to flip and turn traitor.

Hunter pulls the car over quickly after Fitz starts chanting, ‘Stop the car, stop the car, stop the car, stop the car!’, and he barley makes it out of the car before he is heaving onto the dead grass off the side of the road. All those lovely donuts, gone to waste.

His head is bowed, face burning with shame and exertion as he tries to get his breathing right again, when a large warm hand spreads between his shoulder blades.

“Easy, little fella,” Hunter says softly, other hand brushing his curls away from his forehead, “It’s okay, just breathe slowly. There is a dental kit in the glove box so you’re all set, just calm down.”

Fitz closes his eyes and concentrates on making his laboured breathes.

“I-” he has to clear his throat and he grimaces at the taste it leaves, “-I’m sorry.”

“Nah, Mate. Don’t be. Sneaks up on the best of us.”

He rubs his hand soothingly up and down Fitz’s back and it makes him believe Hunter’s words. 

When he is sure that Fitz isn’t going to lose any more of his lunch, Hunter walks back to the car and comes back with the dental kit and a bottle of water. They both stay silent as Fitz cleans his teeth, and after he’s finished they both stand together in front of the car. Neither of them say anything for a long moment, but they both seem to understand that something needs to be said before they can move on.

“I usually get back to base before the- the-” Fitz spins his hands until he finds the word, “Nausea hits me properly. I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

Hunter keeps his face passive and he doesn’t turn his head to look at the other man, which Fitz is grateful for.

“Dose that happen every time you get an injection?”

Fitz hesitates. He hates lying. So he doesn’t.

“No. Just-“

He doesn’t know why he is nervous, he’s not ashamed and it’s not even a big secret or anything, but his breathing hitches all the same.

“-just when I get my Testosterone injections.”

Fitz bites his lip and waits. Because with these sort of things you always have to wait after. It’s probably a survival thing or something. His mind skims over how various people have reacted to him telling them his only real secret and wonders which category Hunter is going to fall into; the ‘No, really?’s the ‘Oh, I don’t mind/Can’t even tell’s or the ‘Cool’s.

He didn’t think Hunter would make his own.

The other man turns to look at him, and it’s the same look of fondness from the kitchen or when he asked Hunter how to shake a tail. He’s not looking at Fitz like he’s a different person, he’s leaning closer so he can ask him-

“Are you gonna be okay when we get back to base? Or do you need me to stay with you?”

It’s all a bit flustering really.

Did he even understand what Fitz just told him?

“Um- oh, I don’t want to be a burden, you-“

“Not what I asked, love.”

He’s going to analyse the way his stomach flips at the term of endearment later, when he isn’t the most confused he had ever been in his life.

“No, I- ah- Simmons usually comes and gives me a check over,” Fitz replies, pretending he isn’t blushing up a storm, “She doesn’t trust other people to give me the right amount consistently.”

“Isn’t she going out on a mission?”

“…oh.”

A soft smile takes over Hunter’s face. 

“We’ll get back and see what happens then, ay?”

“I don’t want to keep you from-“

“-From mandatory down time while I get revaluated by a shrink? All those socks I need to ball? Trust me love, you aren’t keeping me from anything.”

‘Love’ again.

It settled low in Fitz’s stomach.

“…Okay.”

“Okay.”

They climb back into the SUV and this time Hunter puts on Pearl Jam. Fitz doesn’t know exactly what’s happening, but he’s pretty sure Hunter has his back. He doesn’t need anything else right now.

…

Hunter dose stay with him.

They put on HBO’s Howling Commandoes while Fitz doses on the bed.

(Hunter snaps a picture on his phone of a sleepily glaring Fitz and sends it to Simmons. Just to let her know he hasn’t inadvertently killed her best friend. She sends back a heart emoticon.)

… 

Next month Fitz asks Hunter to go with him again.

He has enough for another week yet, and May is available, but he asks all the same.

He tells himself he is gathering data. And that he doesn’t like the way Hunter sings loudly along with Panic! At The Disco. Or how he worries after Fitz without smothering him, the way Jemma and Skye would.

It’s just convenient, he tells himself. 

…

Fitz is acutely aware that he has a heart equipped with a revolving door.

He falls in love with people for short periods, if a cashier smiles at him or if a person talks to him on the street he falls in temporary love for an hour. Soft skin and a soft heart. His Mum says that’s how his Dad had been too, having little crushes that last an hour and dissipate just as quickly. She thought it was endearing. Fitz thinks it’s impractical. Its particularity impractical when you’re hooking up with someone.

And even more so when you keep getting them for team members.

He’d had one on Ward, and a bigger one on Skye, and a semipermanent one on Jemma. He thought the one he had on Mack would last, but that got shot to hell. It was impossible not to have one on Bobbi or Trip. They were just too attractive and nice not to be a little in love with.

And sure when Fitz first met Hunter he felt something, an instant recognition of a handsome face and a familiar dry wit. Aesthetic appreciation, hope that he was a sign their organization was growing stronger, all of that.

Something is different now. Fitz looks at Hunter and sees a trusted friend. And potential to be more than that.

But, Hunter is different now also. 

He touches Fitz like he does with the others, friendly and not at all like he thinks Fitz is breakable. He seeks out his company a lot more, sitting with Fitz and meal times and seeking him out to talk too. And not once- not once has Hunter asked Fitz the usual questions. He’s grateful for that, which frustrates him because common decency isn’t something that you should have to be grateful for. But he is.

Hunter treats him like nothings different except that they are better friends now. Jemma had been surprised, Coulson had been good natured but awkward, and May portrayed no emotions what soever but has since been more protective of him (which is actually nice). 

No one else knows, it’s not a secret, but no one else knows. He has thought about it again and again, talked to May about telling the team. She had offered him both sides of the argument, how he should be able to be who he is without fear and that she would back him up if he needed it, but also how their enemies treated people like him, people who are different. And how people who aren’t their enemies do similar things.

Hunter’s reaction makes him want to tell everyone and damn the consequences.

But Fitz falls into little loves easy, and he doesn’t want to get himself hurt just because he wants to impress a guy.

He keeps his mouth shut and convinces himself that it’s no one else’s business. 

…

“So,” Hunter says casually, “You and Simmons, what’s going on there?”

Fitz frowns down at his friend.

“You are literally bleeding all over me, and you ask me that?”

Hunter shrugs and visibly regrets it.

“Distract me?”

Fitz sighs. Evac is still a few minutes away, and Hunter only as a cut up arm so there is no immediate danger to his life.

“Nothing is going on there.”

“You two aren’t together?”

“No … I wanted to be, but we wanted different things. It was selfish of me to … be like that to her. I regret it.”

Hunter nods.

“Because she is Asexual?”

“And Aromantic.”

Hunter nods again. 

“Bobbi’s Aromantic too.”

“I know, she has a shirt about it.”

“That’s not why we broke up though. It was the lies and stuff that did us in. I think she thinks I resent her for not loving me back, but that didn’t matter too me.”

Fitz plops down next to Hunter, arm pressing against his uninjured one in the small space they were taking refuge in.

“What about you and Mack?”

Fitz frowns.

“What?”

“You and Mack.”

“There never was any ‘me and Mack’”

“Really? I definitely thought someone was fucking someone there.”

That startles a laugh out of Fitz.

“Well,” he sighs out, “Maybe I wanted that once. But not now.”

Hunter nods.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just something about his-“

“-arms?”

Hunter barks a laugh. 

“Yeah. He didn’t want anything to do with me though. I spent weeks making ‘Bi-the-way’ jokes, and it didn’t get me anywhere.”

Fitz bites his lips against a smile.

He stores that information away for later.

“How come ...?”

“’How come’ what?”

“…how come you never ask me any questions about me being Trans?”

Hunter looked at him for a long moment, judging his mood or whatever spies/mercenaries do, before shrugging.

“How come you never ask me any questions about being not-trans?”

“Cis.”

“Huh?”

“Cis is not –trans.”

Hunter stuck his lip out and nodded.

“I will remember that,” he stared at Fitz again, “Did you want me to ask questions about you being Trans?”

Fitz shrugged.

“People usually do is all.”

Hunter considers Fitz’s words for a moment, hand rubbing against his injury as he thinks.

“Do you always get sick after injections?”

Not what Fitz was expecting.

“Not always. Only sometimes, I don’t know why.”

“And you identify as a guy?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t mind that I call you ‘man’ and ‘mate’, right?”

“I’m pretty sure that ‘mate’ applies to all genders, but yeah. I don’t mind.”

Hunter scrunches up his face.

“I’m running out of questions, mate.”

“Oh,” Fitz said, feeling out of his depth, “People usually ask me about my birth name, and surgeries, and medication and stuff.”

“That sounds invasive,” Hunter answers, leaning close to Fitz as he shifts around so he’s not stressing his wound, “I like who you are, Love. How you got to be who you are isn’t really my business.”

Fitz is stunned for a long moment. It’s actually quite shocking to him. Other people usually have a whole list of things to ask him, and as good natured as they are intended they usually disorient him a little. 

A slow grin spreads over Fitz’s face, big and bright and genuine.

Hunter smiles back, bumping their shoulders together.

“But, mate,” he says, voice serious but grin still lingering, “Anyone ever gives you grief about any of this stuff, you just call me and I will be right there, okay.”

“You’re offering to beat people up for me?”

“Yeah,” Hunter chuckles, “Don’t abuse the power.”

Fitz grins even wider.

“Okay. Ditto.”

“Ditto? People have been giving me a hard time for months and I haven’t seen you beat up any of them!”

“I don’t want to scare anyone-“

“-with your skillz?”

Fitz laughs, the sound punched out of him.

“Yeah. Skillz.”

Hunter bumps his shoulder against Fitz’s again, laughing right along with his friend. 

…

“You and Hunter have been chummy lately.”

Fitz doesn’t look up from his latest invention that he is carefully soldering.

“We can’t be chums?”

Jemma snorts.

“No, it’s not that,” she says and she sounds like she is smiling, “I’m actually proud. You have been seeking out friendships more and more since we left the lab.”

“So have you.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good. We’re not so … um-“

“Co-dependent?”

“Yeah, that.”

Jemma places a hand on Fitz shoulder.

“Just-“

Oh god she sounds worried now.

“-you’re not replacing Mack with Hunter are you? It’s really no fair on either of them-“

“-it’s not like that. Hunter is different.”

“Different?”

“Yeah,” Fitz stops soldering so he can look up at Jemma, “I uh- I told him, Jemma.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A large smile spreads over Simmons’ face before she suddenly wraps her arms around the other scientist, grinning into the top of his head.

“I’m glad.”

“I can tell.”

Fitz hugs her back.

“It’s nice,” He admits, quietly into her chest like it’s a secret, “Knowing other people can know and it doesn’t change anything. That- that we can-“

“-let other people into our little world?”

“Yeah.”

Jemma sighs as she leans back, still grinning at her best friend. 

“You’d tell me if you were shagging, though wouldn’t you?”

Fitz pushes a laughing Jemma away, telling her to “piss off!” But he’s laughing and grinning too. 

…

“I’m gonna tell Skye, I think.”

“Yeah?” Hunter replies, mouth full of pizza and his eyes focused on Fitz’s TV where Merlin is once again saving Arthur life by knocking him out with a tree branch.

“Yeah. Then everyone from before will know. Or everyone that counts.”

Hunter nods in reply and passes Fitz another piece of Hawaiian. They are sitting on Fitz’s bed in his room, various junk food spread around them. Usually tonight would be team movie night, but four nights ago Fitz got shot in the foot and he didn’t much feel like socializing while he is on pain killers.

“She keeps saying things,” Fitz continues, shifting on the bed so he can lie more comfortably next to Hunter on the bed, “About how she doesn’t feel right in her skin, and about how she didn’t ask to be how she is, and I just-I just-“

“You can relate?”

“Yeah,” Fitz sighs, turning his head more into the pillow as the pain killers surge again, “Jus- yeah.”

Hunter shifts back so their heads a sharing a pillow, “You want me to be there too.”

Fitz smiles softly.

“Nah, I’ll be okay. Skye’s not scary.”

“Kay,” Hunter peaks at him over a bump in the pillow, “Are you falling asleep on me?”

Fitz hums, “Probably.”

Hunter grins at him and shuffles around in the bed so he can pull the quilt up and around Fitz.

“This thing is amazing,” he says, running his hand up the quilt, “Your mum made this? Would she make me one?”

Fitz chuckled sleepily and snuggled deeper under the quilt.

“Only for family.”

“Ah,” Hunter sighed and lay down beside him again, “She looking for a man?”

“She’s a lesbian, so no.”

“Rats. I’ll just have to marry you then.”

Fitz falls asleep with a smile on his face.

They wake up three hours later, still laying side by side, too the sound of a throat clearing. Fitz jumps, and Hunter jumps into action, his arm flinging out and grabbing his gun from the bedside table.

“Whoa!” Skye startles, hand going up in surrender, “I did not mean to scare you guys-“

“Scared, who’s scared?” Hunter mumbles, still half asleep, “You didn’t scare us.”

“I was a little scared.”

Skye lowers her hand and Hunter lowers his gun. She steps into Fitz’s room and her eyes zip around, and Fitz instantly knows she is going to report everything she sees back to Jemma. Jemma who knows about his still newish crush on Hunter. Fantastic.

“I don’t want to break up the love fest of anything,” Skye jokes proudly, “But Coulson needs Hunter for an op- like right now.”

“Trust me, Mate,” Hunter says as he stretches up from the bed, “If there was a love fest going on in here the door would not be open for walk-ins.”

“Not a fan of exhibitionism?”

“Not a fan of sharing.”

As Hunter bends down to put his shoes on (and everyone tries and fails at not staring at his arse), Skye sends Fitz a look that’s practically bursting with happiness and mischief. 

“What?”

“Nothing!” Skye sing songs, “I like your quilt.”

“You have to marry in to the family to get one,” Hunter says as he straightens up and heads towards the door, “And I’ve got dibs on this one.”

He gestures to Fitz, and a throwaway line like that should not make his heart skip a beat but it does.

“Damn. And you don’t like sharing.”

Hunter ignores Skye’s comment to look over his shoulder at Fitz and say, “You gonna be alright here by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he replies weakly, “I’ve still got three more seasons left of gay medieval shenanigans.”

The grin Hunter gives him warms his belly.

Skye’s squawk and giggle fit remind him why he hates taking pain killers.

…

Fitz lets Skye in on his secret-not-secret the next day. The end up curled up under his mother’s quilt with tear stained faces.

May finds them like that and brings them some tea. 

It all goes pretty well.

…

It’s not often that Fitz has to leave the lab for a mission. And it’s even less frequently that Fitz has to leave the lab for an undercover mission. 

But even rarer than those two things is him being invited to ‘post-op-drinks-and-fun-times-‘ (as Skye named it).

But that’s where he finds himself, crowded into the lounge area with the rest of the team after he just went undercover. And not undercover in a lab or a tech office or a college campus but a-

“A gay bar, what kind of Criminal hangs out in a gay bar?”

May rolls her eyes at Trip.

“A gay one?”

Skye laughs loudly and slaps Trip’s back.

“She’s got you there!”

Trip smiles at Skye and everyone polity pretends not to notice how he’s looking at her like she hung the moon.

“Shame on you,” Mack says jokingly from where he is cooking them all up a stir fry, “Assuming all criminals are straight.”

“Come on man, I did not,” Trip gripes, “I’m just saying, a club hasn’t been a good criminal hide out since Magnum P.I went off the air. Nothing to do with the gay part.”

Bobbi snorts.

“He did look a little like Tom Selleck.”

“Blah- don’t,” Jemma says with a frown, “You’ll ruin Blue Bloods for me.”  
“No one likes that show.”

“I do!”

Bobbi just shakes her head at the female scientist, “You have no taste-“

“-Says the woman who is obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy!”

Bobbi levels Jemma with her eyes, “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare.”

(Everyone is struggling to keep their laughter hidden from the two women, especially Hunter who goes so red in the face he has to hide behind Trips shoulder.)

“The even bigger question,” Skye continues, “Is how dose Fitz know his way around gay bars so well?”

Fitz chokes on his beer and Jemma lets out a hiccup.

“Oh-”he stumbles out, “-that’s not really-“

“-I mean,” Jemma says along with him, “-it’s nothing to ashamed of-”

“-No, but it is a-”

“-Long story. Or not long-”

“-But old, certainly.”

They send each other a slightly tipsy look, communicating that they are both aware they are not getting out of this one easily. Not with Skye grinning at them like a shark.

“Oh,” the young former hacktivist grins out at them, “Well we have all night.”

No escape. Dammit.

Well, Fitz has been wanting to spill all his secrets lately, might as well tell this one. He sends a look to Jemma to articulate this and she sighs.

“Fitz and I used to go clubbing all the time when we were at the academy.”

“And all bars look the same,” Fitz said from behind his bottle, “Gay or otherwise.”

Jemma nodded, “Yeah, exactly.”

“You and Fitz? Clubbing?”

Skye looks like this is the best day of her life.

“It’s not that spectacular, Skye,” Fitz says unconvincingly. 

Skye looks at him for a long moment, brow scrunched up in thought as she takes him in and oh no what is she going to sa-

“Are you gay, Fitz?”

The room goes quiet. Jemma sends him a wide eyed look that tells him she can’t save him from this, and that maybe it’s not such a bad idea for everyone to know.

Well, might as well then.

“Pansexual.”

The room stays quiet as everyone takes him in. Various emotions play on their faces, from shock to confusion to-

“Hey man me too,” Trip says, leaning over to give Fitz a fist bump and a grin, but what’s more shocking is-

“So am I.”

May says.

Melinda May who values her personal life like it’s a government secret. She gives Trip and Fitz a knowing look, twitching her eye brows and mouth into a comical expression for a fraction of a second. 

“Wait,” Skye says suddenly, launching to her feet to survey the room and everyone in it, “Is anyone here straight?”

No one raises their hand and just like that an entire room of highly trained government operatives dissolve into drunken preschool-esque giggles. They are practically rolling on the floor as a group by the time Coulson walks in with his coffee mug that’s proudly sporting a blue, yellow and pink flag.

“Children.” he scoffs.

…

Skye comes rushing into Fitz’s room one day, about three weeks later, with Simmons in tow.

“Fitz!” She yells excitedly, pushing the door closed before pushing Jemma down beside him on the bed, “Jemma has something to tell you!”

“Wah- Skye? I was sleeping-”

“Sleep can wait,” She sighs dramatically, “Tell him.”

Simmons rolls her eyes at Skye before turning to Fitz.

“I just saw Bobbi and Hunter talking is all.”

“And that involves me because …?”

Skye flops down on the bed across his legs and grins up at him, “Because of your secret crush on one English mercenary.”

Fitz glares at Jemma.

“Don’t look at me! She guessed on her own!”

“Yeah, you’re not so subtle on the Hunter front, Fitz.”

“Would you two please-?”

“But tell them what they were fighting about!” Skye says urgently, and Fitz really had thought the brash American stereotype was dying out but apparently not.

Simmons sighed again.

“It appeared as though Bobbi was trying to make a sexual overture to Hunter-“

Fitz snorts at the expression and Jemma glares.

“-and it also appeared that he rebuffed her.”

“Rebuffed her by saying, ‘no thanks, Bob, I’m not interested’.”

Fitz looks at the two women through sleep filled eyes, trying to catch up to their trains of thought.

“Gossip really must be running low if you think this is interesting, Skye.”

Both of them roll their eyes at him.

“What I am saying, Leo,” Skye snipes, “Is that Hunter would literally have fallen to his knees if Bobbi asked him too, a few months ago. And what’s changed since then?”

“She infiltrated us because she didn’t like the idea of Coulson keeping secrets, when she was actually being used to attack powered people by a man who wanted to eradicate them from the world, and also shot May in the stomach?”

Skye let out an obviously frustration fuelled breath.

“You! You are what has changed, Fitz!”

He frowned at his friend.

“Say again?”

“What Skye is trying to say,” Jemma interjects before Skye blows a gasket, “Is that Hunter does not want to have relations with Bobbi because he is interested in you.”

What.

“What.”

“I said-“

“No,” Fitz chuckles, “I heard. I have already told you that there is nothing going on between Hunter and me.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want there to be!” Skye sing songs, hugging Fitz’s legs, “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you!”

Jemma nods in agreement and Fitz glares at them both.

“Let me get this straight; you two woke me up from my precious sleep, all so you could tell me someone else’s private conversation and play match maker.”

The two women look scandalized. And then they nod.

“I’m going back to sleep now.”

“But Fitz-“

“Out.”

“But Fitz you two would be so-“

“Out!”

They leave and Fitz rolls over to press his face into the pillow. It helps him fall asleep faster. But it also hides the grin that he is (not really) ashamed of.

…

It’s not always good though.

Fitz has bad days. Days where he can say a word without stumbling, days where he gets so mad at himself he has to excuse himself to god cry in his room.

Now, on days like that, Hunter finds him. He follows Fitz as he storms out of the lab, squeezes down beside him in the closet where he likes to cry, and stays. Sometimes he holds Fitz, but that’s not always what he wants. Sometimes he tells stories, or sometimes they just sit in silence. But he stays and waits for Fitz to put himself back together.

And when Hunter gets mad, gets frustrated or hurt, Fitz tries to be there for him in return.

They hold each other up when they need it. 

They have developed a language of touches and looks that always seems to develop between people when you let them in properly. It’s comforting, and has helped in the field a couple times.

Fitz tells Hunter the real story about not having exes. Hunter slings and arm around his shoulder and says a simple, ‘Ditto’.

It’s enough.

…

Ward keeps showing up, won’t leave them alone to stitch themselves back together. He seems to have accepted that Skye doesn’t want him and that everyone on base hates his guts, but he hasn’t accepted that he and Fitz aren’t friends anymore.

Hunter picks up on this without him having to say anything, and whenever they have to deal with Ward he stands between the ex H.Y.D.R.A agent and the scientist, a human wall armed with a gun and a sharp tongue.

Fitz bakes him his mother’s famous braised steak as a thank you and Hunter eats every last bite.

…

“You’re an idiot.”

“Easy, love-”

“No you are. I’m just informing you, it’s not up for debate.”

Hunter lets out an amused breathe and smiles up are Fitz while the scientist re-applies the bandage to his shoulder wound. His hand’s shake and they both purposefully ignore it.

He got too close to a bad guy and then too close to the guy’s knife. He fell down instantly, just slumped down. Fitz had been watching on the monitor and it scared the hell out of him.

Hunter curls his hand around Fitz’s where it’s resting over his wound, bringing him out of his thoughts. He smiles up at the scientist.

“I’m okay though!”

“Relatively speaking.” 

Hunter grins.

“You are such a pessimist, love.”

“I- I am a realist. You are only relatively okay, and completely an idiot.”

“Should put that on my resume.”

Fitz frowns, his mouth going dry in an instant.

“Are you- are you looking for a new job?”

The grin slips off of Hunters face.

“No, Fitz. I’m where I want to be.”

His other hand, the one that’s not holding Fitzs, slips up to sit on the smaller man’s waist. It’s big and warm, curving around his side pleasantly.

Something warm settles in his belly, and he fells his face turn red. Hunter is in his room, sitting on his bed half naked, and looking at him with a smirk forming on his face. A very charming smirk. 

Is- is he making a move on Fitz?

Hunter stands up, keeping contact with Fitz and thereby keeping their bodies practically pressed together as he looks down at the smaller scientist. 

Hunters hand moves from Fitz’s waist to his cheek.

“Maybe I am an idiot,” he says softly, thumb stroking his cheek and his eyes not leaving Fitz, “But you are a little bit too, darling.”

“Dar- what? I am not!”

Hunter leans close enough that their mouths are almost kissing.

“I have been shamelessly flirting with you for months and it takes getting stabbed in the chest for you to put your hands on me.”

Fitz shivers.

“Months?” he asks and he sounds breathless, “Since- before or after I asked you to drive me to the doctors.”

Hunter smiles, and it’s soft this time, “Before. Long before, love. I think you were too wrapped up in Mack’s arms to pay me any time.”

Fitz snorts and just like that they are laughing. It’s sickeningly sweet and horribly intimate.

“You,” Fitz says through a smile, “You want me?”

“Dose the Pope fuck in the woods?”

“I don’t know- did you just mix up metaphors.”

Hunter grins, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“You’ve got me tongue tied, love,” his hand slipped lower, cupping Fitzs’ hip and fiddling with the hem of his shirt, “What I mean is; how could I not want you-“

His hand slipped slightly under the hem of his shirt, knuckle brushing against his lower stomach in the most sinful way.

“-I would be a fool not to.”

Fitz shivers. Hunter’s hands make his body feel like a live wire. The other man’s words were twisting up sweetly in his head, clogging up his brain and making it quiet in the most wonderful way. 

“You- you don’t mind that I’m-“

“Sweet heart,” and it’s not a coo it’s something darker, something that makes his toes curl and legs squeeze together, “I’m attracted to you, not what you aren’t.”

Behind the haze of lust and anticipation, Fitz is relieved. It was a stupid fear, one he didn’t think would apply to Hunter. But he had been wrong about peoples attitudes in the past, and it always hurt him like a stab wound.

With Hunter, right now wrapped up in each other as the both stand on the edge of something new, Fitz feels warm. And safe. And the most turned on he has ever been in his life.

Fitz lets out a shaky breathe before he brings his hand up and trails his fingers down Hunters abs, just like he has been thinking about doing since he first lay eyes on them. He watches as Hunter shivers and his mouth goes slack to let out a small groan.

Fitz smirked this time.

“I suppose you should call me Leo.”

“You keep touching me like that,” Hunter whispers as Fitz hand began tracing lower down his body with agonizing slowness, “And I’m not going to be able to call you anything coherent, darling.”

Fitz shivered at the term of endearment.

“Can I call you Lance?”

The other man shivers again.

“God, it sounds so much better in your voice,” he groans, both hands now slipping under Fitz shirt, “How are you already doing this to me?”

Fitz can’t keep in the giggle.

“It’s my skillz, I guess.”

Hunter barks out a laugh that jostles his wound, making both men wince. Fitz helps Hunter sit back down on the bed, and while a hesitant look has taken over his face he has yet to lift his hands one inch from the smaller man’s body.

They stay like that for a beat, staring at each with their hands hesitantly on each other’s skin. Still hesitating on the edge of whatever they are to each other. And Fitz knows that he wants a relationship with Hunter, not just a hook up, and that they should probably take things slower, build up a relationship.

But screw that, Fitz hasn’t had sex since before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and has had to put up with months of being surrounded by ridiculously attractive people and on top of that an apparently flirting Lance Hunter.

Acting entirely on impulse Fitz plants his hands on Hunters shoulders and slips into his lap, pressing their bodies together in a way that he has very much missed. 

Hunter lets out a noise of surprise, before his body acts on muscle memory and his arms wrap around Fitzs waist while he looks up at the younger man in surprise. But his surprise passes quickly and he is leaning up so seal their mouths together in a very much not innocent kiss. Fitz lets out a moan into the kiss, like an overly stimulated teenager, but then Hunter lets out a similar one in answer and all self-conscious thought leave his mind.

Friction is building up between them in the most delicious way. He feels like electricity is zipping through his fingertips, he is the kind of warm that settles under your skin and makes a home, and god does he feel beautiful sitting on top of a gorgeous man, while his mouth and wandering hands pull amazing noises from said man. God, it’s a head rush and a power trip and completely humbling at the same time. If being with Hunter is always this soft and warm and amazing it might just overload his circuits.

Hunter breaks away with a gasp, lips lingering just over Fitzs mouth like it is the hardest thing I the world for him to do.

“I-” he gasps out and when he licks his lips is makes them both shiver, “I was reading that some trans people experience dysphoria during sex- and I don’t want to do that to you, so I have a dildo in my room, and if you stop being so god damned sexy for just one moment I can run and get it-“

“Later,” Fitz gasps, and as much as the thought of fucking Hunter with a dildo turns him on he can’t right now, “I am not letting you out of this bed until neither of us can say words like dysphoria.”

Without warning Fitz tips them both back onto the bed, pressing Hunter down on to the mattress in the most sinfully wonderful way. They line up and Fitz moans at the feeling. 

Hunter smirks, “I am at your mercy, love.”

Fitz presses his forehead to the other mans, and grins.

“I am going to wipe that smirk of your face.”

Hunter shivers.

“Have at it then.”

…

Afterwards the lie together tangles up in the sheets and covered in his patchwork quilt. Hunter is holding Fitz pressed to him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other absently stroking one of the scars that wraps around his side. Fitz has an ear pressed to Hunters chest while he basks in the pleasantly numb afterglow. The sun if probably setting outside, and the team is probably going to come looking for them soon, but they are too wrapped up in their own little world, in each other, to give a damn.

“You do realize I am going to keep you right?” Fitz says into Hunters chest.

The other man kisses his curls and hums, “God, I hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to feel about this fic. After last episode I really started shipping these two and also has these Trans Fitz ideas in my head. I might make another that's shorter, singularly focused and more porny. I dunno this fic feels kind of aimless to me. Thoughts?
> 
> (i probably made so many mistakes but i am too tired to care right now)


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